oom and the door closed behind us. Obediently we
lay down on the narrow bunks. We dared not speak. We scarcely dared
glance at each other. We must act, at all times, as if we were
observed. Might not Fraser have a ray that could penetrate walls?
Might he not, even now, know that we had outwitted the doctor and had
not received the fatal injection? And what then? Suppose Fraser
himself superintended another injection? I pulled my thoughts back
from the terrible supposition. One thing at a time. So far all had
gone well. I lay down on the bunk and closed my eyes.

Half an hour later we heard the door open. Now, I, thought, when I
look up, I am supposed to be mad! I struggled to make my mind a blank.
I tried to force into my eyes that peculiar, brilliant, shiny, vacant
expression I had noticed. Would I succeed?

* * * * *

I raised my eyes. The doctor was standing before us. With a gesture he
bade Foulet go to him. I watched beneath lowered lids. Thank God he
had called Foulet first. Foulet had dabbled in the psychology of
insanity. Foulet would know how to act, and I would ape him. Coldly,
mechanically Doctor Semple ran him through a few tests. I watched with
bated breath. The doctor nodded. Foulet had passed!

It was my turn. I did exactly as Foulet had done--and succeeded! I
had to turn away swiftly so that the doctor wouldn't see the gleam of
triumph in my supposedly mad eyes.

He motioned to Brice. But just as Brice stepped forward the door
opened and Fraser came into the room. For an instant everything
reeled. We were gone! But even in that terrible instant of despair I
remembered to keep my eyes blank. No trace of expression must appear
or we were lost. I stretched my lips in that travesty of a smile I had
seen the others use. Fraser stared at us, one after the other. He
nodded.

"It is well," he said slowly and distinctly as if he were talking to
small children. "Your names will still be as they were." We stared at
him blankly and again he nodded. "You have forgotten your names--ah!
Yours," he pointed to me, "was Ainslee, and it still is. And you are
Monsieur Foulet. But Brice--" he paused. My heart hung in my breast,
suspended there with terror. What was the matter with Brice? What did
Fraser suspect--or know? He turned to the doctor. "You will give
Inspector Brice another injection," he said. "The Inspector has a
strong mind, and a clever one. A normal injection would not be